Of Fish and Fornication
by FilthyPlatypus
Summary: Sometimes, the best catch isn't on the other end of the fishing pole, but standing next to you, holding another fishing pole.


It was just another quiet day in Azeroth for Spiro, the fledgling shaman of the Blue Oasis Buccaneers. Or was it? Yes, it was. Or so she thought. She rode briskly through Orgrimmar on her trike, honking at the Skyway Peons as they blindly crossed the roads. "Idiots," she mumbled to herself.

At last, she arrived at her destination. This was Spiro's favorite part of the day; receiving Razgar's daily fishing orders. She'd always been fond of Razgar, ever since her childhood, when Razgar had saved her from a local mentally disabled peon who liked to, in his own words, "make zug zug in the poop poop." Growing up, she always looked up to Razgar, and when her father was killed in a horrible zeppelin accident, Razgar became the father figure in her life. But that was many years ago, and now, in her adulthood, her womanhood, she'd begun to notice how handsome he was.

Spiro got off her trike and began walking over to Razgar. The smell of fish wafted wafted past her as a tauren loaded a bag full of fish onto the back of his kodo. Ah, that fish smell. She'd come to love it. It reminded her of her youth, when Razgar first started teaching her to fish. With his help, it wasn't long before she was a master angler. As she neared Razgar, the oh so familiar scent became less faint, and she became a little aroused.

"Ahhh, Spiro my dear! You're late today!" Razgar grunted emphatically.

Spiro, a little red faced from her unexpected arousal, shyly looked down at the ground as she let out her mousey apology.

"I see the training's going well," said Razgar, gesturing at Spiro's waist.

"I guess," replied Spiro, unenthused. "I just wish these maces weren't so darn big. I dented the trike with them again."

"Patience my dear, dual wielding is not an easy art to master. Why, I remember when…" began Razgar, but Spiro was too busy admiring his physique. She watched his plump, green lips move up and down as he spoke. She looked intently as they gently embraced his tusks with every word he spoke. Oh, how she envied those tusks right then. She noted his outfit, the usual tattered mail vest, leather hat, and what remained of his raggedy pants. She wondered why he didn't just replace them, at this point they did nothing more than cover his manhood.

"…which is why I limp now, and always keep my weapons sheathed. Be careful, Spiro," finished Razgar.

"I will," she replied. "So, what's on the agenda for today, Razzy?"

"Well, first thing's first," began Razgar.

"That's probably the best order," interrupted Spiro.

Razgar let out a sigh and continued, "First thing's first. Don't call me Razzy when there's customers around. Second, I need about a dozen sandy carp for tonight."

"Sandy carp, sandy carp…" Spiro thought outloud. "Those the sandy, carpy ones?"

Razgar, unamused and with a heavy sigh, replied, "Very clever. You've been fishing as long as you've been walking, I think you know which ones I'm talking about."

"I really don't!" replied Spiro, "Could you show me?"

Razgar thought for a moment. "I may have a picture, if you don't mind accompanying me home."

Razgar and Spiro reminisced as they strolled back to his hut. A few short minutes later, they arrived.

"Care for a drink, deary?" asked Razgar. "I have some fresh milk in the kitchen, serve yourself," he said as he walked into his bedroom.

Spiro did so, but then, an idea came to her. But dare she be so bold? Yes, she does.

"Don't mind if I do!" shouted Spiro from the kitchen. As she went to pour, she _accidentally_ spilled the goat milk all over her tunic. This, of course, left her with no choice but to remove it, exposing her rugged leather bra, and her supple, ample bosom. The first phase of her plan was complete.

"I know I have that photo around here somewhere," shouted Razgar from his bedroom; completely oblivious to what was about to unfold, _ and unbutton_.

Having never done anything like this before, Spiro awkwardly strutted into Razgar's bedroom, her lush breasts glistening with goat milk. She moved the door curtain aside, and, in her best attempt to be seductive, placed one hand against the doorway, and the other at her hip.

"Say, Razzy," she said in the most seductive voice she could muster, "you have a shirt I can borrow?"

"Why on earth would y-" began Razgar, before looking up and seeing Spiro posed awkwardly in his doorway. "Oh," he said.

"Sorry about your milk," said Spiro in a low voice.

"It's…fine," muttered Razgar, his jaw agape. "You've…really grown up," he continued.

"What makes you say that?" asked Spiro, as she ran her finger down her chest, lapping the goat milk off her finger.

"Well, you're…I mean…you've become quite the stunning young lady," replied Razgar, composing himself.

"You're not so bad yourself, big boy," cooed Spiro.

Razgar cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well," he replied, "I suppose you didn't actually come here for pictures of fish."

"I wouldn't mind having your 17 pound catfish in my offhand, if that's what you mean" Spiro said suggestively. "I mean your penis."

"That's…rather forward of you Spiro," said Razgar, still in shock.

Spiro slowly walked over to Razgar, disrobing as she did. "You just lay back," she said as she nudged him flat on his back, "and let me do all the work."

"One thing first," she said. "I need to make sure you don't go anywhere." Spiro cast her earthbind totem, rooting Razgar in place.

"I've been fantasizing about this for so long," she said. "I can't believe it's finally happening."

Spiro cast ghostwolf, and proceeded to unbutton Razgar's pants with her teeth. She let out an earth shattering howl, and mounted Razgar.


End file.
